


I'll be with you all along

by ruffboi



Series: Into the Jaskierverse [5]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: AU Jaskier, AU Lambert, Alternate Universe, Canon Ciri, Canon Geralt, Dimension Travel, Flower Crowns, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion, Witcher Jaskier | Dandelion, chosen family, nothing bad happens in this one!, rating is for language only, universe hopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26387182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruffboi/pseuds/ruffboi
Summary: While jumping through universes to try to find where Jaskier's gotten lost, Geralt and Ciri land basically on top of a witcher's camp, and find two very familiar faces, who promptly knock them out.Lambert is suspicious but easily swayed by Dandelion's trust.Dandelion is going to try to keep Ciri's mind off of everything while she and her father rest.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Lambert, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion/Lambert
Series: Into the Jaskierverse [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1895545
Comments: 48
Kudos: 387





	I'll be with you all along

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [raised by wolves and voices](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24532948) by [ruffboi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruffboi/pseuds/ruffboi). 



> This was meant to go up yesterday, whoops! Time for a soft little breather for Ciri and Geralt, where nothing bad happens!
> 
> If you haven't read the fic whose universe this takes place in, the basic premise is that Julian Pankratz was taken to Kaer Morhen as a kid, and he and Lambert grew up together and went through the trials together and are nigh inseparable, and big brothers Geralt and Eskel try to keep an eye on them.

The portal opened in the middle of the woods, and Ciri let out a sharp breath when she dropped the magic holding it open. She was tired from their last couple of jumps, and she briefly had the sinking feeling that they'd be in whatever world this was for longer than a couple of days while she recovered.

She only had it _briefly_ , because there was the sudden sound of Geralt starting to make an alarmed sound, cut off by a wave of force from behind them that threw both of them forward into the trees. 

There was a loud _crack_ as she hit a tree trunk head first, and then everything went black.

Ciri came back to consciousness to the sound of quietly hissed conversation from two familiar voices that she couldn't quite place.

"It's _not. Geralt_ ," one voice hissed insistently. "And we should kill whatever it _is_ before it wakes up and attacks us!"

"Don't be an idiot," the second voice snapped back. "You can tell as well as I can that he's a witcher. If he's not Geralt, then who else could he _be_?"

"Fuck's _sake_ , Dandelion, we saw Geralt two weeks ago outside Novigrad and he looked normal! This man is old, and has a weird smell, and the woman he's with made my medallion go wild. This is magic shit, that is _not_ Geralt."

The voices clarified as Ciri's vision cleared and she saw the two men by the fire.

"Lambert?" she asked. " _Jaskier_?"

"Well, she knows _one_ of us!" Jaskier said brightly. "You recognize her?"

"No," Lambert snapped, and scowled at her. A quick tugging verified that Ciri was, in fact, tied securely to a tree trunk. She could see Geralt tied to a tree nearby, unconscious.

"It's..." she sighed. "I'm Ciri. I know you don't know me, but I know you. Sort of. It's... magic shit, but we're looking for Jaskier. _Another_ Jaskier."

The two men looked at each other, then Jaskier turned back to look at her with wide, curious eyes that Ciri suddenly realized were amber and slitted.

"So... where's the first one?" he asks.

"...oh," she sighed. "I... he's you," she said. "Like... like I have a Lambert, where I'm from. And Geralt." She nodded to Geralt's still-unconscious form slumped against the ropes binding him. "He got... trapped in a portal I was casting. Between... worlds. And we're just trying to find him."

* * *

"Give us a second," Lambert told the girl, grabbed Dandelion's arm, and dragged him far enough off that they could keep an eye on their captives but have a quiet conversation out of earshot.

Dandelion had a look on his face that Lambert did _not_ like, staring back at the unconscious witcher who looked uncannily like Geralt. You know, if he was old and decrepit.

"Do _not_ tell me you actually believe her," Lambert whispered, slinging an arm around Dandelion's neck to pull him in close enough that their foreheads were nearly touching.

"I don't think she's lying," Dandelion whispered back, drumming his fingers against Lambert's arm absently. "And he _does_ look like Geralt, don't deny it. He's clearly a witcher, it was _way_ too hard to knock him out and he's got the eyes and the medallion and the swords..." 

"She's _playing_ us," Lambert insisted, wanting to shake his brother and only just restraining the urge.

"What _for_?" Dandelion asked, one eyebrow raised. "What the hell would anyone want to pretend all this for? It's not like we've got power or coin or anything valuable."

Lambert opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again reluctantly. He hated when Dandelion shut down his arguments so quickly, but he was smart and knew how to get Lambert to second-guess his own arguments.

"Fine, I can't think of a good reason _why_ ," Lambert admits. "But she's looking for someone that she _says_ is you? But has a totally different name? If nothing else this is fucking _magic bullshit_ , and we shouldn't get involved!"

"Why don't we hear them out," Dandelion suggested. "Let her explain properly, wait for the Geralt doppler to wake up and get _his_ story, and then decide. It's not like they're getting away while they're tied to those trees."

"If there's magic shit involved they might," Lambert muttered, but sighed and pressed his forehead to Dandelion's. He smelled the faint shift in Dandelion's scent as his brother realized he'd won.

"Thanks," Dandelion said, and squeezed his elbow. "If you're right, I'll owe you."

" _Yeah_ you fucking will," Lambert muttered, and let Dandelion go.

* * *

Geralt woke with a pounding headache, likely from the hit one of the two men who'd gotten the jump on then when they'd arrived had dealt him. He managed not to groan, and kept his head down and eyes closed while he assessed the situation.

He was tied to a tree, first of all. The scent of leather, horse, and smoke made him think he was tied up at someone's campsite. There were three heartbeats, one certainly Ciri's as he could hear her speaking - the others were too slow to be human, which meant— 

"Hold on," Lambert - because he'd know that voice anywhere - said. "He's awake."

"I'll check him," someone murmured, assumedly the other witcher. The voice was familiar, but not as immediately familiar as Lambert's. Geralt heard someone rise and walk over to him, and he looked up just as the man crouched down in front of him.

Two sets of slit-pupiled gold eyes met, and the witcher in front of him tilted his head slightly, like a curious puppy. Even after having met Julian when they first set out, it took a moment to parse the witcher with the longish, braided back hair as the man who must be this world's Jaskier.

"Hi," he said with a familiar smile. "I'm Dandelion. Is your head okay? Took quite a hit to get you unconscious."

"Fine," Geralt grunted. He'd been knocked on the head before, worse than this. Some dinner and sleep and he'd be well enough in the morning. 

"Would you mind untying us now?" Ciri piped up from a few feet away, and he saw that she, too, was tied securely to a tree, a very young-looking Lambert sitting on a log not far from her, his sword out.

"Not yet," Lambert growled, and jerked his chin to Geralt. "Need to hear his version."

Geralt looked back to Jas— to Dandelion with a frown, and took stock of the differences. He was young, nearly as young as he'd been when Geralt had first met him. He had longer hair, the amber-gold eyes of a witcher, and was still wearing half his armor as if Geralt and Ciri had interrupted him settling for the evening - which to be fair, they probably had. But the plain shirt that peeked out from under the armor had embroidery along the collar, and his smile and scent almost right. He was somehow, despite the rigors of surviving the trials and training of a witcher, still Jaskier.

Geralt couldn't deny that it made something warm in his heart to realize it.

"So," Dandelion said chipperly, shifting to sit cross-legged in front of him. "Who are you, how'd you get here, and what are you doing?"

"Geralt of Rivia," Geralt responded simply. "Ciri's father. She has... unique magic. We portaled here from another world, looking for our friend Jaskier. He's you, but a bard."

"Me but a bard, huh?" Dandelion asked. "So you know my name and where I'm from?"

"Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove," Geralt responded immediately. 

"But it might be different here, especially since you were born earlier," Ciri chimed in, but Geralt knew he didn't need to be assured of that. Dandelion looked gobsmacked enough by how easily it rolled off Geralt's tongue that Geralt knew it was right.

"You were a fucking _viscount_?" Lambert asked, and chucked a small rock at Dandelion, who caught it and stuck his tongue out. "Fucker. You never told me that." 

"I _told_ you my father was some rich asshole, what does it matter if he was a fucking _Count_?" Dandelion protested, and threw the rock back. "Anyway, I _wasn't_ a viscount, my oldest brother was." 

" _Boys_ ," Ciri said sharply, and both young witchers attended with remarkable swiftness. It reminded Geralt of how Vesemir had managed Lambert when they were younger, and wondered if that was why both of them listened immediately. "Have we passed your test? Can you _please_ untie us? I think I'm losing feeling in my arms."

"I don't—" Lambert started, but Jas— _Dandelion_ swatted at him.

"Come _on_ , Lambert," he protested. "Old Geralt can help you catch dinner and the witch lady can help me get some leaves and stuff so they don't have to sleep directly on the dirt."

"Ciri," Ciri piped up.

"Yes, that, thank you," Dandelion said.

Geralt wondered if there was a chance that becoming a witcher was less fraught in this world, to leave these two boys (and they _were_ boys, without a doubt) so able to act so... silly. So _young_.

"Fine," Lambert sighed, trying to suppress a fond smile as he pushed himself to his feet and started loosening the knots holding Ciri in place. Dandelion _beamed_ , and trotted over to Geralt to do the same.

"I'd say sorry about Lambert, but Ciri says you know one back where you're from," Dandelion said with a grin.

"Yeah, you get used to the smell first, but I've known him for decades so I'm used to the rest of it, too," Geralt commented dryly.

"Hey!" Lambert protested, and Dandelion cackled loudly.

"Believe he's some sort of alternate old Geralt _now_?" Dandelion asked after a moment, finally getting his laughter under control enough to untie the knots and freeing Geralt from the tree.

"Yeah, fine, whatever," Lambert grumbled, but there wasn't any real heat in it. A far cry from how Lambert had responded to such teasing at that age back in Geralt's world. "Come on, old man, let's see if your hips can keep up enough to help catch dinner."

* * *

Ciri had all but collapsed in Dandelion's bedroll after supper, offered with no room for an argument. It was funny how somehow, even in a world where his life had been so different, when she pulled the blanket over her, there was the faint scent that she tended to associate with Jaskier-on-the-road. She'd have to ask Geralt if it was similar to him, before they left, she thought, and then she was asleep and thinking nothing.

She woke in the dark with her heart racing, the fire banked and the moon barely a sliver above her. She was already sick of dreaming about the monster and losing Jaskier in her portal. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and let out a deep breath.

"Bad dreams?" came Dandelion's too-familiar voice from a few feet away.

"Something like that," Ciri answered with a sigh.

"Ah," Dandelion said knowingly. "Bad memories."

"Ones I'm not eager to discuss," Ciri said.

"Never fear, I'm not inclined to prod at aching scars," Dandelion said quickly. Then he huffed softly, almost a laugh. "Well, not on other people, anyway."

Ciri propped herself up on her side and looked over to where Dandelion was sitting with his back against a tree. He had a small shuttered lantern hung by a knife stuck into the tree trunk above his head, shining just a bit of light onto him and the mending he appeared to be working on in his lap. More than enough light for a witcher to sew by, Ciri thought.

"Can't sleep?" she asked.

"Keeping watch," he clarified, and nodded over to Lambert. "We're a couple hours out from dawn. I didn't want him to stay awake the _whole_ night, he was already tired."

Ciri smiled and pushed herself up so she was sitting. "Even as a witcher, you have a tendency to fuss over witchers, huh?"

"Well, certain ones, anyway," Dandelion admitted with a fond smile, and glanced over at Geralt. He'd opted to meditate tonight, which Ciri couldn't entirely blame him for considering their welcome. "It's so weird to see him look so _old_."

"Are you close?" Ciri asked. "You and your Geralt, I mean?" 

Dandelion laughed. " _Oh_ yeah. The four of us are... kind of unique, for witchers. Or, for Wolves, anyway." He patted the ground next to him. "C'mere, we can talk quieter so we don't wake them up."

Ciri moved quietly and sat down next to him. To her surprise, the shirt in his hands wasn't being _mended_ \- there was a small but growing design of some sort of flowers that he appeared to be embroidering along the collar.

" _That_ is part of it, in a way," Dandelion said, noticing her eyes on his work. "I was... not a very good witcher trainee. I didn't want to be a witcher. Neither did Lambert, when he got there. We sort of... banded together, me and him. Same cohort." He pulled out a small pair of scissors from the bag next to him, and a new color of thread. "Geralt and Eskel were older, but they... well, I think they saw themselves in us a little bit. They looked out for us, after a fashion. Not that they could do _much_ without getting too much attention, but..." he shrugged. 

"But they did what they could, and probably kept you out of trouble you didn't even know you were at risk of being in?" Ciri guessed with a smile. 

"Pretty much," Dandelion agreed. "The younger boys' instructors didn't think I'd survive the trials. Tried to push Vesemir to put me through them early with an older cohort to get it out of the way. Then Lambert and I ended up being the only ones who made it, ironically. The two boys who wanted it least."

"You and Lambert are really close, aren't you?" Ciri asked.

"He's the other half of me," Dandelion said simply. "I mean, Geralt and Eskel are my brothers, more than any other witcher could hope to be, but Lambert's... special."

Ciri glanced over at Lambert, who was sprawled out on his bedroll, one arm flung over his head. The line of yellow flowers and dark wolves she'd noticed embroidered along his sleeve cuffs during dinner were just barely visible smudges in the darkness.

"I get the feeling you're special to him, too," she said.

"Oh, definitely," Dandelion said with a grin. "I'm the only person he'll admit publicly to _liking_."

Ciri muffled a laugh at that.

"Anyway, we survived the trials together, and then made a pact," Dandelion continued, continuing to stitch the outline of some shape Ciri couldn't quite make out yet. "I wasn't going to let them feel satisfied that I'd survived. I'd make them regret it, by being absolutely shit at _everything_ , and not paying attention to our lessons. Lambert would do his best, and help me learn in secret, and then when our last tests came, I'd surprise all of them and we'd leave and never ever come back." He shook his head with a wry smile. "Geralt and Eskel were finally out on the path, and so I just... made flower crowns during our alchemy lessons. Snuck novels and poetry instead of reading the bestiary. Taught myself to embroider instead of learning how to mend things. Dropped my sword every time I swung it. Never paid attention to signs."

"That... sounds like a dumb fucking plan," Ciri said bluntly, and Dandelion snorted.

"Oh, it was the worst fucking plan," he agreed. "But we were kids, and I was angry, and I didn't want to do anything they wanted me to do. So I worked hard and learned everything in what little free time I had, and at night. Vesemir had me pegged, but for whatever reason, he didn't tell the other instructors, so all the other adults just thought I was useless."

"What happened?"

"Well, when we were sixteen, we overheard them talking about not letting me _leave_. Just... keeping me in Kaer Morhen forever. And we panicked all winter about how we'd do that, and then after the snow thawed and most of the older witchers had left..." He smiled, fondly. "Geralt came back."

"Came _back_?" Ciri asked to clarify. "In the _spring_?"

"That's what we told him," Dandelion chuckled. "The next winter was supposed to be his first back, but he'd gotten a letter from Vesemir that had been sent out before the passes closed, and came back first thing. Vesemir decided to help me out, you see, and he suggested that perhaps if I were sent out on the Path with a full witcher that I respected and trusted, and learned from _him_ , perhaps I would be more inclined to attend to my lessons, and would improve enough to be sent on the Path when the time came."

"They sent you on the Path with Geralt," Ciri said, shaking her head. "That's... actually pretty genius of him. Gives you an excuse to 'improve' when you come back in the winters, gets you out from under the people you hated, and might even make you more inclined to actually _be_ a witcher once you get old enough, so you could help your brothers and keep the world safer."

"Yup," Dandelion said. "Eskel helped too. There's a whole lot more to it, but basically... Geralt and Eskel saved me, and Lambert kept me going. They're my family, more than any of the other Wolves. Even if we don't work like witchers are supposed to."

The sky was, slowly, starting to lighten, the pre-dawn grey softening the edges of the darkness. Ciri looked down at the embroidery in the improved light.

It was far from finished, but so far she could pick out a tangle of buttercups and a white wolf. 

* * *

"We're safe, Ciri's just tired," Geralt said into the xenovox. "I want her to rest for an extra couple of days before we move on, if you think we can spare it, she got a nasty bump on the head when they got the drop on us."

"It probably couldn't hurt to let her recharge, especially to make sure she's not too injured." Yen's voice echoed tinnily from the device. Geralt couldn't be sure, but he thought she sounded tired. Or maybe worried. Probably both. "You're _sure_ you're safe?"

"Middle of nowhere with two witchers, both of whom knew me as a kid and seem willing to believe our story?" Geralt huffed a laugh. "Yeah, I think we'll be okay unless that thing shows up again. It does, we get out quick."

"Fine, then," she said. "Give it to Ciri, I want to talk to her."

"Ciri!" Geralt called, and she and Dandelion stopped in the middle of their sparring. He lifted the xenovox. "Yen wants a word."

Ciri grinned at Dandelion and sheathed her sword as she trotted over and took the xenovox, heading towards the stream as she spoke to get out of earshot.

"Hey, I'm here," she said, and Geralt tuned her out as he turned and walked towards the two young witchers who'd started sparring with each other. Lambert didn't quite have the sort of movement and energy Geralt had grown used to, with his techniques and tactics learned from the other schools, but even the core of his movement seemed to be different. Hell, even his attitude was different than Geralt was used to, especially at this age. The Lambert he knew back home had been at his angriest and prickliest when he was young, but sparring with Dandelion, he seemed almost... _playful_.

Lambert managed to disarm Dandelion with a smooth move that Geralt was certain he picked up from Eskel, but instead of yielding or moving to retrieve the weapon, Dandelion just lets out a battle cry and flings himself bodily at Lambert. Geralt chuckled as Lambert scrambled to toss his sword out of the way to keep Dandelion from impaling himself on it, even as the two of them tumbled over.

" _Fuck_!" Lambert shouted, and by the time they hit the ground they were scuffling like a couple of kids, trying to pin limbs and pull hair and get each other in headlocks. It was so... childish. No, that was the wrong word, that made it sound bad, and Geralt was rather endeared. It was _innocent_ , maybe.

Lambert finally managed to get the upper hand on Dandelion, pinning him down with a grin.

"I win, asshole," he declared, and Geralt knew the _instant_ Dandelion decided to try something, because he got that grin, that so-familiar Jaskier grin, and the familiarity twists something in Geralt's gut. He wasn't sure, in that moment, if it was worry for his Jaskier or jealousy that this world's version of him was safe and happy or something else entirely.

And then he wasn't thinking about any of that, because what Dandelion had apparently decided to try was to press up from the ground to kiss Lambert soundly.

Lambert kissed back, apparently instinctively, and then jerked back, his eyes flicking over to where Geralt watched them.

"Jules, _not here_ ," Lambert hissed, his cheeks reddening as he pushed to his feet with a scowl. Dandelion rolled his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows.

"It's just _Geralt_ ," Dandelion protested, not bothering to be quiet like Lambert had. "Anyway, it's not even _our_ Geralt, he'll be gone in a few days, like Ciri said. Right, Geralt?" he asked, tipping his head back to look at Geralt with a cheeky grin.

"Do whatever you want," Geralt rumbled. "None of our business."

" _See?_ " Dandelion pressed, but Lambert just grabbed his sword with a scowl and stalked into the woods. Dandelion flopped back on the ground with a sigh. "Fucking shy little wolf," he said conversationally to Geralt. "You mind if I go after him?" he said, holding out a hand straight up, silently asking to be pulled to his feet.

Geralt rolled his eyes, but stepped closer and grabbed Dandelion's hand, pulling the young man up with no effort expended. He was heavier than Jaskier, but still light by witcher standards. "It's not like we're going anywhere yet," he said, and Dandelion grinned. 

"You're right! We'll be back once he stops being embarrassed." He patted Geralt on the shoulder, and trotted off after Lambert, calling his name.

Geralt stared after him, the twisting in his gut back in full force, and settled in to wait for him— for _them_ — to return.

* * *

Old Geralt had decreed that he and Ciri needed to stay a few days to make sure she wasn't having any side effects from hitting her head when Dandelion had thrown an Aard at the two of them when they arrived, so by the third day they were there, Lambert had more or less resigned himself to a week of no privacy. Admittedly, Old Geralt hadn't seemed to be bothered by having witnessed Dandelion's display of affection yesterday, but Lambert just felt _weird_ about it.

Dandelion, on the other hand, clearly had taken to the two strangers quite well. He'd told Lambert he understood, after his little explosion yesterday, but Lambert knew him. Dandelion had _always_ wanted to be open and determined and proud about his love for Lambert, once they were no longer trapped in the Keep, and only kept it as private as he did for the sake of Lambert, who didn't trust humans not to see that affection as a weakness to exploit in an attempt to lash out at the witchers when they traveled.

Dandelion and Ciri always seemed to be chatting when they weren't doing anything else, the last couple of days, so when Lambert went looking for Dandelion to try to apologize for his paranoia, he was disappointed but not particularly surprised to find Dandelion down by the stream with his embroidery and Ciri's head pillowed on his thigh. He hummed and nodded at appropriate moments as she spoke animatedly about her and Old Geralt's sorceress friend.

"I swear," Ciri said with a laugh. "I thought she was going to set him on _fire_ for messing with her hair products, no matter how much she likes him."

Dandelion snorted, and shook his head. Lambert knew what kind of amused grin was on his face, just from that amused little sound. It was always off-putting, to be around people he couldn't read after having been around just Dandelion for a while. It was easier, when it was just the two of them, because while Dandelion was full of surprises, Lambert knew the heart of him and always understood him, the way Dandelion seemed to always understand him in return.

He stepped away from the comfortable little tableau quietly, so as not to disrupt a conversation he had no real interest in, and found himself wandering downstream a ways, following the scent of wildflowers to a little clearing with daisies and dandelions bobbing their white and yellow blossoms in the breeze. He couldn't easily get Dandelion away from both Ciri and Old Geralt, and he didn't want to get too affectionate or talk about his response to the kiss where one of them could hear, so he'd have to come up with a way to do it without words.

Dandelion had taught him to make flower crowns the first year he'd spent at Kaer Morhen, making the garlands out of the various flowers they needed to pick for potions, but always making them in collections of blooms they'd need to use together. It was a not-too-subtle 'fuck you' to their instructor when they'd walk back into class with Lambert's bag full of the proper ingredients, and Dandelion wearing his with as much dignity as any king (in Lambert's opinion). Their instructor was an idiot, though - Lambert didn't think he'd ever once noticed what Dandelion was doing with his flower crowns.

He was a little out of practice, and there were more than a few crumpled petals in the final result, but it didn't take very long before Lambert had a simple circle of flowers plaited together, white and yellow and bright as Dandelion's sunshine smile, the one he seemed to save only for Lambert. He considered it carefully, then nodded. Imperfect, sure, but he knew his brother preferred little imperfections to things that were pristine and lacking in personality.

He stalked back over to the little patch of grass Dandelion and Ciri were sitting in, and dropped the flower crown on Dandelion's head without fanfare. Dandelion blinked a couple of times in surprise, then lifted a hand to feel the flowers before tilting his face up to smile at Lambert like the sun coming out from behind a cloud.

"Am I being crowned the Summer King, then?" he asked, and Lambert rolled his eyes, bumping his knee into Dandelion's shoulder.

"Shut up," he muttered. "Thought you'd like it."

"I do," Dandelion said simply. His eyes were soft and fond, and Lambert knew that he'd understood what he was trying to say. That he was sorry he was so uncomfortable out in the world with displays of affection. That he still loved him. That once they were alone again, they could hold each other.

"What, none for me?" Ciri asked cheekily, and Lambert moved around Dandelion to grab her ankles and drag her off Dandelion's lap with an undignified yelp. "Mother _fuck_ —!"

"Hard to spar with a flower crown, kid," he told her. "Let Dandelion get actual work done on his project."

"I'm going to absolutely thrash your ass," Ciri said as she pushed herself to her feet. 

"Like to see you try," Lambert shot back with a slightly feral grin. 

The two of them jostled each other as the walked back to the main camp to retrieve their swords, and Lambert turned around to steal a look at Dandelion before they were out of sight. 

Dandelion was standing and brushing his pants off, looking deeply amused, the sun falling through the trees and catching his hair and the wreath of flowers on his head, making him look, for just a breath, like some sort of fae creature.

"Come on, slowpoke, get your weedy ass up here so you can keep score," Lambert said, and the moment passed. Dandelion was just a witcher again - lithe and surprisingly attractive, but not otherworldly at all.

Lambert preferred it that way, he thought, as Dandelion grabbed his hand to lead him back towards the camp. He was here in the real world, feet on the ground, standing with Lambert and refusing to leave him behind. If this Jaskier was anything like his brother, he could understand why Old Geralt and Ciri were so desperate to get him back, and Lambert frankly hoped they'd succeed, and that the man was okay.

He didn't pull his hand back from Dandelion's grip until they got back to the clearing where the camp was.

* * *

"We'll leave tomorrow," Geralt told Dandelion, the fifth night after he and Ciri arrived. "She needed the break, especially after that knock on the head, but we have to keep moving."

"Probably for the best," Dandelion admitted, putting some final touches on the embroidery he'd been working on, adding a little stitch here and there. Loud cursing erupted from where Lambert and Ciri were playing Gwent with Lambert's deck split between them, and Dandelion shook his head fondly. "Not that I won't miss having a little bit of company," he continued, turning back to Geralt, "but we probably need to get moving to make sure no griffins have moved back into the area we cleared out a couple years back."

"Hmm," Geralt said, looking at the flowers Dandelion's needle had created. "Will you see your Geralt or Eskel again before winter?"

"Probably Eskel at least," Dandelion said. "Unless something comes up between now and when we're planning to meet him. Geralt probably won't make it, but we'll find each other on our way up the mountain come late fall, at least." He tied off a thread and looked up at Geralt with those wide, insightful eyes, his gaze no less arresting than it can be when his eyes were blue. "Why do you ask?"

Geralt wasn't sure, and he shrugged silently, staring out over the fire into the trees. A comfortable silence fell between them, even if it didn't fall over the camp at large considering Ciri's cackling laughter as Lambert cussed and accused her of cheating.

"Do you miss him?"

Geralt didn't clarify who he meant. Dandelion looked up at him again, and Geralt felt uncomfortably like Dandelion could see something in him that even he didn't know yet.

"I do," he said quietly, quiet enough that Lambert and Ciri's argument over play rules would drown out their conversation even to Lambert's ears. "Not as much as I'd miss Lambert, but... Lambert and I are a little unique. Apart from that, though, I miss Geralt more than anyone in the world, when we're apart."

Geralt nodded. It settled something in his chest to hear that, even if it was a Geralt that wasn't him, and even if Dandelion wasn't his Jaskier. His _world's_ Jaskier.

"I bet you'll find him soon," Dandelion said firmly, as if he were trying to speak a spell, to use chaos to make it come true. "And then the three of you can go home, and be happy and safe."

"I hope so," Geralt murmured, so softly he could barely hear himself. Ciri caught Lambert trying to sneak a card into his hand and protested loudly, and the resulting tussle drew a bright laugh out of Dandelion next to him.

Geralt was ready to leave, regardless of how calm and relatively friendly this world had been for them. He needed to get away from Dandelion and his too-insightful eyes and soft smiles. When he had Jaskier back safe, these other versions of him wouldn't be able to make him feel so simultaneously fond and uncomfortable, because they'd be able to go home.

* * *

It was funny - as much as Ciri wanted to find Jaskier and get him home safely, there was a little part of her heart that ached to leave Dandelion and Lambert behind. They were funny, and remarkably kind, and Dandelion especially had apparently made it his mission to keep her spirits up and hopeful.

But in the end, this wasn't their world. Dandelion wasn't Jaskier. Yen was still back in the world they'd come from. And there was still a giant monster chasing them and damaging the worlds it came to. Even if they weren't trying to find Jaskier, staying would be putting this world at risk, and Ciri wasn't willing to do that.

She and Geralt waited until mid-morning before getting their things together and preparing to leave. Ciri tugged Dandelion into a tight hug as soon as she had her sword and bag slung over her shoulders.

"Thank you," she said quietly, even though she knew all three witchers would easily hear her. "Please be safe."

"I'll do my best," Dandelion murmured back. "We ever gonna see you again?"

"No idea," Ciri admitted. "Probably not, but you never know."

"I'll keep an eye out, then," he said, pulling back to smile crookedly at her. "Just in case."

Ciri smiled, then stepped to the side to tug Lambert into a hug, too. Lambert squawked in surprise, and grumbled wordlessly at the indignity, but hugged her back anyway.

"I'm still not fucking sure you're on the level," he said. "But you didn't screw us over, so I guess you're okay."

"You too, asshole," Ciri retorted.

She could see Dandelion out of the corner of her eye, hugging Geralt as well. Geralt seemed a little awkward, but patted the younger witcher's back gently before moving Dandelion back to reclaim his personal space. Dandelion laughed, and Ciri grinned a little to herself, letting Lambert go.

"Really, though," Dandelion said, twisting his fingers together. "Be careful? This just seems like the sort of thing that could go south _really_ quick."

"We will," Geralt grunted, and Ciri pulled out the beacon to open a portal to the next world. 

"Just _give_ it to her!" Lambert hissed, and shoved something into Dandelion's hands before shoving him closer to Ciri, who let go of the Chaos she'd been drawing on.

"Um," Dandelion said, a little sheepishly, then held out the off-white cloth in his hands. "I... it's for you."

Ciri took it, and recognized it as the shirt Dandelion had been embroidering since the first night after they'd arrived. It was beautiful, complete. Yellow flowers and little starbursts wove around the collar and cuffs of the shirt, with the occasional grouping of three wolves running, one black, one brown, and one white. 

"It's beautiful?" she said, appreciative but confused.

"You said his name was Jaskier," Dandelion said. "The version of me you're looking for. So, that's the buttercups, jaskier is an old word for buttercups." He leans in to point at one of the starbursts. "This is for your sorceress. Magic and all that. And then these... well. Geralt, Lambert, and Eskel, right?" he pointed to the white, black, and brown wolves as he listed them. 

He looked up at her with a crooked little smile on his face. "It's your family," he said, and Ciri felt tears welling up in her eyes despite herself. "So you can carry them with you."

"How fucking _dare_ you!" she said, pulling him in for another hug, her heart full to bursting. "Doing something so _sweet_ for me? You don't even _know_ me!"

"I don't," Dandelion agrees, a smile in his voice. "But I know how much I hate being away from Geralt and Eskel and not knowing if they're okay. I know how much I hate splitting up with Lambert when we have to. So I give them a little piece of me to keep with them, and keep a little piece of them with me. So I thought you could, too."

"Thank you," she says, and kisses his cheek. She opens her bag to tuck the shirt safely near the bottom, so she wouldn't lose it. 

Geralt's hand dropped on her shoulder and squeezed lightly. "You ready?" he rumbled, and she thought he'd been a bit moved by the gift as well. Ciri nodded, and rolled her shoulders. 

"Yeah," she said. "Let's go."

She opened the portal, and turned to take one last look at Lambert and Dandelion, the latter waving with a watery smile, before she and Geralt stepped through.

She hoped that their world would be okay. She hoped they would be happy.

And then it was off to the next world.

* * *

"...Jules, wasn't that your new spare shirt that we got to replace the one ruined by that nekker nest?"

"Yeah. You're gonna have to loan me yours again."

"You're a fucking disaster."

"You love me anyway."

"Yeah. Fuck."

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry again for making you wait for the update, everyone! I hope you enjoyed. :) Next update should be Friday 9/11, and then next week we're back on Tues/Thurs updates!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at [bygodstillam](http://bygodstillam.tumblr.com) if you'd like to see my nonsense on TWO platforms!


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